


Mistletoe

by stargarnet



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargarnet/pseuds/stargarnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A holiday surprise</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe

"Please. Don't think or speak. Be here, right now, in this moment. With me," I said holding her eyes with my own.

Very deliberately, I moved my hands to either side of her face, my thumbs gently resting on her cheekbones, index fingers finding the delicate divot between her ear and jaw, the remainder of fingers lining either side of her pale neck. She was tense under my touch. Her caramel eyes, sparkling under the Christmas lights, rapidly scanned my own darker ones. Her face was always so expressive, it was a battle for her to control it, particularly right now. The familiar looks of worry, surprise, curiosity and concern flew over her features to finally rest on what I was witnessing now. She closed her eyes and I felt her body rise with what appeared to be a much needed breath. It was ragged on the way in and out. But when she exhaled I felt the strain in her neck loosen as her shoulders dropped, her chin lifting slightly, eyes opening.

If her face was the honest expression of her emotions and thoughts, her eyes were the centre of that honesty. You could not read this woman without looking at her eyes. I was looking at her eyes right now and was seeing something that I had never, that I was aware of, been the recipient of. I didn't even know how to interpret it. It shook my conviction to continue on this path. I still wasn't sure where I was going with this. I only knew what I wanted in this moment. I was holding the face of a beloved friend in my hands, standing in my new London home, in my kitchen doorway, under mistletoe. I wanted her, in this moment, with me.

Lost in my thoughts I hadn't noticed she had moved her own hands to cover my hips, index fingers sliding into the loops of my jeans, thumbs sliding over the silk of my shirt, in a gentle caress. The circuit was closing. My gaze lowered to her mouth which was stained from the wine that had accompanied our dinner. Her lips were by no means pillowy but they appeared soft and luscious all the same. I had never wanted to kiss another woman so much in my life. I don't think I had or would ever want to kiss another woman at all, only her. Because it was about her. Even if only in this moment.

Stepping forward slightly I entered that space that separated us. As I did so, warms hands slid around my waist to rest on my back supporting and encouraging me. I nearly cried out in joy at the gesture. I caressed a cheekbone, causing her eyes to flare slightly then flutter closed, her head tilting to rest in my hand, then turning to place a soft peck to my palm. I watched all this, completely fascinated by her response. She looked up at me through dark lashes, long hair falling over her breast. Her fingertips kneaded either side of my spine, ever so slightly, but with an urging pressure. It was all I needed.

I brought my lips to hers, brushing gently, testing, I guess. There was an answering brush and a responsive pressure. I pulled back, astounded. I was met with an expression I was familiar with, the one which meant, 'How dare you take away something I want?' Not wanting that directed at me any longer I slowly returned to the parted lips in front of me.

My own lips equally parted I kissed her gently but firmly, pressing into the softness of her mouth, capturing her lips, one at a time. My attention was returned with equal fervour and caution. I felt her hands sliding over my shirt and her arms continuing to encircle my waist. I brought one hand away from her cheek, down her side and placed it on her hip, pulling her close until we were flush against each other. I felt her shiver against me, her mouth opening in a gasp, which I could not help but take full advantage of.

I claimed her mouth now. My tongue flickered against hers and we both moaned at the sensation. There was a shared flavour of wine and dark chocolate which we sought out in each others mouths. My bottom lip became trapped between gentle teeth, as a tongue swept inside my lip along my gumline. It was my turn to shiver and I threaded my hand through her hair grazing her scalp with my nails. I should of expected her teeth would be in use at some point, though it surprised me at how quickly she had gone there. She always wrote about using her teeth. She also wrote about how sensitive her neck was.

I gripped the back of her head and made my way along her jaw, leaving pecks in my wake. Tilting her head back slightly I made my way down her exposed neck, nibbling and lathing her jasmine scented skin with my tongue, nuzzling each dent and crevice. I reached her collarbone and grazed her skin with my teeth, moving towards her inner shoulder. I felt her knees buckle as she grasped at me, head thrown back, whimpering. I supported her as best I could. She wasn't kidding about the sensitive neck. I looked along the line of her neck to the soft skin stretched under her jaw. Her head snapped up, her body reclaiming its strength.

Her hair had become wild from my fingers, creamy skin flushed, eyes darker than I ever could have possibly imagined. Lips swollen and parted, I expected a tigress like growl any moment. Brushing a hand around my rib cage and up my side, she cupped my face. A thumb traced the shape of my mouth, tickling my bottom lip slightly. Pressing my lips to the pad of the thumb I looked up at her through my eyelashes. Lowering them again I brought my fingers down to lightly trace the length of a silver chain, weighted by a green stone nestled between the swell of her breasts. I brought my lips to the soft curve of skin next to the stone. Her own personal scent mingled here with the jasmine. I nuzzled the translucent skin, rubbing my cheek along the softness. It was intoxicating. The hand cupping my cheek made its way to my hairline, fingers working my scalp. I felt a gentle pressure on the top of my head, her cheek resting there, a contented sigh warm over me. I wrapped my arms completely around her waist, settling myself there, also content.

“Why haven’t we done this before?” I wondered out loud. A chuckle reverberated in the chest under my head. A strand of hair was pushed behind my ear, a kiss to my hair.

“Well,” I felt a shrug in my arms, “we don’t have mistletoe in Australia, do we?”


End file.
